


Divinity

by TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Baptism, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Brainwashing, Breastfeeding, Corruption, Crying, Dubious Consent, Erotic Horror, F/F, Grimdark (Homestuck), Hypnosis, Mind Control, Nosebleed, Nuns, Religious Cults, Religious Horror, Tentabulges (Homestuck), Tentacles, The Horrorterrors (Homestuck), Unreliable Narrator, ambiguous ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28499457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: ...And the stained glass, well, no place of worship was complete without stained glass, evidently! But Rose couldn't say for certain that she could place any of these figures. It looked more like panoramas of the deep ocean than pictures of any sort of Jesus, Joseph, or Mary, undulating curves of seaweed and abyssal tentacles coiling around serpentine, lusus-white fish with their fangs bared. There barely even seemed to be any trolls involved, only as small, insignificant features in the distance. She suppose that was admirable, in a way, to prostrate yourself before the inevitable, predatory encasement of the depths. Some sort of ocean worshipers were an odd choice in these modern times, but who was Rose to judge? Rising sea levels would likely swallow them all, indeed.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Feferi Peixes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Divinity

**Author's Note:**

> Requested By A Friend

The Church of Her Imperial Divinity stretched outward in an extended embrace, swallowing up Rose's periphery, blurry at the edges, pinpricked with tired wetness. She had to stop waking up at 3 PM, that was for certain, particularly on Wednesdays, but, on the plus side, it gave her a view free of worshipers, so that she could explore at her own pace. It wasn't as if Rose considered herself some sort of theist, but she did consider herself highly curious about cults and the occult, so to see an occultist cult growing as popular it has in their modern, civilized age? Well, she simply had to find out what the fuss was about!

Of course, it wasn't as if any Divinists would tell you that it was a cult. They had already received their tax exemptions, they had already received their due representation in parliament, they collected tithes, they performed worship, all fairly typical religious activities, but Rose had never heard of a single person leaving. Wouldn't you, seeker of knowledge that you hopefully are, consider this just as interesting as she did? Surely, you can understand her desire to intrude on a place of ritual alone, unmolested?

She was not alone, though, but she maintained her footsteps at an appreciable enough level of quiet that she hoped to go below the praying nun's notice. It was nothing, here, quite like a human church or synagogue; perhaps a bit more like a Colosseum of some sort. A semicircular main structure containing its pews arranged on a steadily descending slope, all made out of that familiar Alternian biotechnology, all crust and chitin. The floor possessed an appreciable level of firmness for something Alternian, which Rose found to be an excellent little detail. Looking up, she could see further pews through slits in the ceiling, with hallways stretching around the perimeter of the building going up to lifts and stairwells.

And the stained glass, well, no place of worship was complete without stained glass, evidently! But Rose couldn't say for certain that she could place any of these figures. It looked more like panoramas of the deep ocean than pictures of any sort of Jesus, Joseph, or Mary, undulating curves of seaweed and abyssal tentacles coiling around serpentine, lusus-white fish with their fangs bared. There barely even seemed to be any trolls involved, only as small, insignificant features in the distance. She suppose that was admirable, in a way, to prostrate yourself before the inevitable, predatory encasement of the depths. Some sort of ocean worshipers were an odd choice in these modern times, but who was Rose to judge? Rising sea levels would likely swallow them all, indeed.

"Can I help you?" made Rose jump, not expecting any voice to accost her, much less one about six inches from her ear. She hadn't even heard a single footstep, and yet here was an entire-ass person close enough that they could reach out and grab her. Rose turned around slowly to come face to face with her accosting acquaintance, raising a considerable eyebrow in her direction.

There was something about her distinctly unlike every other troll Rose had met ~~and slept with~~ before. Her skin was, of course, gray, but it was closer to the unhealthy darkened pallor of charcoal than the light, elephant-skin gray she was used to. Rose wasn't certain if she was hallucinating or not, but it sure seemed like the nun in front of her was radiating whitish smoke, dispersing into wispy trails above her, easily seeping through her densely-layered, drapey ensemble, in black and fuchsia and gold. Her eyes were nearly shut, and Rose could not make out any color behind them or her voluminous eyelashes, but a pleased smile was painted across her face, slight wrinkles around her eyes belying a frequent grin that Rose was yet to see, immense horns peeking through her headdress, presumably to enhance the feeling of looming over someone. Her figure, as appealing as Rose may have imagined it to be, was hidden under far too much cloth to perceive.

~~Maybe she could find out.~~ ~~~~

"It's certainly possible." Rose returned, a very Lalondian noncommittal answer. Way to become your Mom, Rose. "Am I free to continue enjoying the scenery for the moment... Uh, Sister? Ma'am?"

"Mother Peixes." She replied, and something shook at the deepest wells of Rose's insides. She pushed it down and ignored it. "You are free to continue enjoying the scenery." She spoke, her voice so quiet and calm but with a barely restrained undercurrent of powerful excitement, like she was just so happy to see someone new in her church.

"Yes, Mother Peixes." Rose replied - something about it felt uncomfortably automatic, but Rose waved it away. She was just being polite, obviously. When you were doing investigative work about a potential cult, there was no use in getting testy with them, and potentially removed from the premises. The longer she could stay and admire the scenery, the better. She kept watching Mother Peixes with the most inquisitive glare, tracing the potential vagaries of her shape beneath her uniform, imagining where her hips might be to be held onto, where her breasts may have been so that Rose could picture her face pressed between them, her-

Whoa there, nelly. Wrong scenery.

Rose's eyes met Mother Peixes's face, and the woman's smile widened, just a bit. "Sorry." Rose said, sheepishly, only to be met with a mildly condescending pat on the head that she couldn't help but lean into, especially when it trailed down just a tiny bit, ice-cold fingertips running through Rose's golden-blonde hair. Rose! Pay attention! You have a cult to do amateur investigation on.

"I'll be at the pulpit if you have any questions, Miss." Mother Peixes replied, with that same kindly, eternal, painted-on smile.

"Miss Lalonde. Rose Lalonde." Rose volunteered nervously, holding her hands together behind her back. Something about Mother Peixes was doing incalculably odd things to her sense of decorum. Rose had a history of feigning deference to authority figures who had information she wanted to know, but her brain felt less like it was feigning and more like it was eagerly going along. She didn't want the crazy cult nun to know her name, first _or_ last, but it only felt appropriate to tell her nonetheless.

Rose was not comfortable.

Maybe she should leave. ~~Or stay and ogle Mother Peixes for a while. What's the harm?~~ Right. Rose was smarter than that. If she left now, she'd probably never get to find out anything else about the cult, thus wasting her valuable time. And Rose was certainly smart enough to avoid all the common cult pitfalls. There was nothing they could offer her, with her staunch skepticism of the unnatural, that would make her stay. No offers of eternal existence or some kind of afterlife could seduce her to the dark side. She was a confident and intelligent author with years of experience writing about the occult, both fictionally and non-fictionally. There was no trick that could be spent on her powerful mind that would allow her to betray her values.

Plus, everyone knew that troll psionics were incompatible with human brains. The most Mother Peixes could do, if she was a psionic of some sort, was make her fall asleep. And if this was just the latest highblooded psionic getting their kicks, there was no way it could've enraptured as many humans as it has, so clearly that was out of the question. Maybe it was drugs? There were plenty of options, and Rose would say no to each and all of them as they arrived.

So she examined the church, up the stairs, down the lifts, thoroughly making sure to get her gaze across every inch, looking for hidden dispensers of aerosolized drugs, psionic amplifiers in the walls, any sort of explanation she could think of as to why she couldn't stop pausing every couple of minutes to stare wistfully in Mother Peixes's direction. She spent nearly two hours combing the place, while Mother Peixes silently cleaned and prayed, never once making eye contact again with Rose. A stirring heat grew larger, needier in Rose's belly, continually distracting her, making her ogling breaks take longer and longer. Watching Mother Peixes bend over to clean a pew and imagining being behind her with a strap-on, watching her read from a thick scroll and imagining being cradled in her arms and kissed and loved, watching her--

Her phone alarm went off, snapping her out of her lustful trance. Just like she had intended it to, when she noticed something odd happening about half an hour ago.

It was time to go. ~~No, don't~~. It was time to _go_. Rose stomped her way down the stairs, determined to find out what was going on here, but even more determined to do it at a safe distance. She couldn't find any reason for her razor-sharp mind to be so easily distracted. She was a huge lesbian, yes, but not _that_ huge a lesbian that it would get in the way of her investigation. There was something fishy here, and it wasn't just the briny scent in the air. A hand on her shoulder stopped her just as she approached the open double doors, and she spun around to slap it away, only to come face to face with Mother Peixes's milk-white eyes, so beautiful and pure, Rose thought that it would certainly not hurt to stay around a little bit longer. Surely, Mother Peixes would be able to provide some answers - Rose was more than clever enough to dig information out of her even if she wanted to hide whatever it was she was doing here.

Wasn't Rose about to leave? No, of course not, that's why she was at the pulpit, staring up at Mother Peixes's closed-eyed smile. A small part of her wondered why Mother Peixes hadn't opened her eyes yet, at least, not that Rose had seen. Could she see somehow while keeping them closed? Perhaps it was an application of psionics that Rose had yet to ascertain. She was uncertain as to Mother Peixes's blood color - she knew that fuchsia was a popular accent color, due to its association with Alternian royalty, but she has yet to hear of any fuchsia-blooded trolls, so to Rose, Mother Peixes was approximately hemononymous. She could've been a rustblood or a violet. There was simply too much hidden for her to tell.

What wasn't hidden, of course, was the obvious height difference between the two, something that never struck Rose until approximately now, just how much Mother Peixes _loomed_ over her. When there was an arm's length of difference between the two of them, or perhaps less psychological pressure inside Rose's head, making it hard to think quite as clearly as she liked, it didn't feel as obvious, but there was a good three feet of height between the two of them, and Rose felt _every single inch_. She gulped nervously, wringing her hands together behind her back. "So, Mother Peixes - I simply must ask, your c-church has been absolutely spiking in popularity recently." She said, trying to put back on her "cool amateur investigative journalist" hat, leaning against the pulpit. After a moment of uncomfortable, not-right feeling in her head, she stopped leaning on it and instead returned to standing perfectly still in front of Mother Peixes. "Any secret spice that you'd care to share, or will you have to keep the truth of your success close to the chest?"

Mother Peixes bent down slightly at the waist, so that she could be closer to eye level with Rose. Not close in the slightest, but closer, so that Rose didn't have to crane her neck to make eye-to-eyelid contact with the nun. Her smile widened, and Rose's nerves grew steadier. ~~She is safe. She is comfortable~~. Rose steeled herself for Mother Peixes's voice as it emerged, so soft and matronly and pleasant, it made Rose feel like crying, collapse into a heap at her feet, sob and wail and cling to the hem of her dress, and then Rose snapped back to paying close attention, as she was supposed to be doing. "--In this modern age want a place to stay, and to belong. At the Church of Her Imperial Divinity, we believe, simply, that we provide that belonging more effectively than any other church or religious organization."

"Right, belonging." Rose mirrored, feeling something in her chest getting lighter and heavier at once. "People want to stay and to belong." She repeated. Weren't you so lonely, Rose? Confirmed bachelorette Rose Lalonde, spending weekends with friends and weeknights with the latest Alternian in your arsenal, then writing what little you could wring of their personal life into side characters in your next novel so you could feel a sense of personality and connection? That maybe if they showed up in your little written fantasyland, then they were real and not just a one-night-stand, and maybe they'll stop leaving you. You think you're so rational but even you have these broken little rituals that you feel, subconsciously, will fix your life. You're not rational at all. You're the most irrational person you've ever met. What's _wrong_ with you?

Don't you want to belong? What do you have to be crying about?

When Mother Peixes's hand reached down to pull off Rose's hairband, she offered no resistance, leaning into Mother Peixes's touch. She needed it. Craved it. She needed to belong. Tears were already ruining Rose's immaculate day-makeup, running streaks of mascara leaving their blackened trails across Rose's face. She sniffled, wiping her nose across the sleeve of her sweatshirt, mussing up some of her lipstick in the process. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me." Rose whimpered, kneeling by Mother Peixes's feet, pressing her forehead into Mother Peixes's hands, her fingers ruffling Rose's hair into a messy, untamed bob. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hush now, dear." Mother Peixes spoke, and Rose's heart rose up in her chest like it was trying to escape. Mother Peixes's hand, white nails potent enough to claw someone's eyes out, bone-colored straps about the length of a pencil crisscrossing geometric patterns across her skin, between her fingers, held onto Rose's cheek, cupping her face, and Rose couldn't help but fill her urges to nuzzle into it like an attention-hungry cat. So touch starved and testy. "You can be forgiven."

"Can I?" Rose asked, her vision blurry as she stared upwards at Mother Peixes, hands folded in front of herself in prayer, knees bent in prostration, bitter tears burning their way down her face. "I came here to... To tear you apart. You're a _cult_. You're doing something _evil_. How are you doing this to me?" She said angrily, in her last moments of lucidity.

Mother Peixes opened her eyes. Her voice was so sweet, so powerful. When she spoke, it was the color white in Rose's ears, and she saw stars.

"I understand." Rose replied, quietly, bending down, hands on the ground, beginning to sob at Mother Peixes's feet. "I'm sorry I ever thought lesser of you, Mother Peixes. I'm sorry I tried to destroy our Church. To hurt it. I - I don't know what came over me." She wailed, Mother Peixes's hands remaining so far away. This was her punishment, for acting out against the Church. Mother Peixes wouldn't touch her hair, or hold her face. And then she did, reaching down to pull Rose up by her hair, softly, gently, painfully, reaching out with her thumb to wipe the tears from Rose's face. Rose made an ugly noise, sniffling through her stuffed nose, wiping away agony onto her sleeves. "I want to be with you, and the others, and I want to belong. Please, Mother Peixes." She whimpered, like a struck animal.

"And you won't feel this self-destructive urge to harm us, or yourself, any longer, will you, my child?" Mother Peixes responded, her eyes shut and her grin sharp and toothy. Beautiful, like a shark, the way Rose knew she would be able to consume anything she wanted. Mother Peixes was an apex predator, and Rose knew that she had been lured in by her glow, but was far too addled to care. This was the fate of all prey. It was what Rose deserved.

"No, Mother Peixes." Rose whimpered, sniffling again.

"Do you promise?" She asked, her voice like honey in Rose's heart, clogging her arteries, making it harder to breathe.

"Yes, Mother Peixes." Rose said, and Mother Peixes reached out to her, and Rose grabbed her hand, Mother Peixes's larger digits enclosing hers. There was an obvious explanation now, as to why Mother Peixes so rarely produced footsteps, and it was as plainly obvious as the nose on Rose's face. Someone as powerful as her no longer needed to walk, and so, she glided along the ground, Rose following meekly behind, watching the wisps of ashen smoke trail their way through Mother Peixes's clothes.

"Tell me, Rose. Were you religious before you entered our Church?" She asked, leading Rose along to an alcove in the back, behind several layers of golden curtains, hidden away from the world behind a bend in a hallway.

"No, Mother Peixes." Rose answered deferentially. She could feel the smile in Mother Peixes's breath.

"Do you know what a baptism is, Rose?" She asked, and Rose shook her head.

"I've heard the term, but I'm not aware of what it entails, Mother Peixes." Rose answered, honestly and truthfully. Behind the back of the church, behind the curtains and the bent hallway, there was a room, circular in design, with a curiously shaped pool in the center, like the shape a drop of water made before it fell off of a flat surface, so clear and pristine. Rose's vision started to fog up, but not with tears - with steam, four beak-shaped marble fountainheads keeping hot, pristine water circulating in the pool.

When Rose looked down, she saw lights, mechanical, ordinary lights, continuing down at least twenty meters, slowly opening up, an inverted cone, until she could no longer see the light at the pool's edges.

She could not see the bottom.

The smell of seawater filled her nostrils.

It stung.

"A baptism is a tradition that we have appropriated from one of your human churches. Considering our origins and doctrine, we only found it appropriate." Mother Peixes explained, slowly pulling her dress up and moving to sit at the edge of the pool, kicking her bare, strap-interlaced feet into the water. "It is a form of rebirth-by-bathing, where a human is purified through holy water, and effectively reborn. Come here, child."

"Yes, Mother Peixes." Rose answered, coming to join Mother Peixes at the edge of the pool, taking off her sandals and rolling up the bottoms of her jeans until she could sit on the damp edge and dip her toes in. It was warm, like a sauna, and she could already feel sweat beginning to pool and bead on her skin. Mother Peixes gave a little tut-tut, and Rose felt pain in her heart, wincing at the disapproving gesture. When Rose was offered a small rag, she looked at it with confusion, until Mother Peixes grabbed a hold of her face and wiped cherry red blood from her nose. Rose looked down at her sleeve, noticing a dark stain on it that she was able to ignore before. Mother Peixes's touch was so tender, so comforting, that Rose couldn't help but spontaneously begin crying again, tears freely flowing down her face. "I'm sorry."

Mother Peixes smiled that soft, crinkly smile, without any teeth, without opening her eyes, putting Rose at ease. "You would be surprised at how frequently my children start bleeding. It's of no concern. It feels good to be cleaned and cared for, doesn't it, Rose?"

"Mmhmm." Rose quietly hummed, sniffing again as Mother Peixes dampened the rag in the brackish water, using it to wipe clean her makeup, her tears, until Rose was nothing but a bare face presented to her. "Thank you, Mother Peixes. What do we do next?"

"If you are prepared, then we can begin your baptism." She answered, with poise and grace and confidence befitting the incredible woman she was.

"I am, Mother Peixes." Rose answered, resolute, calm, with her breath shakier than it had ever been before, heart beating faster and faster.

"Remove your clothes." Mother Peixes instructed. Rose's body responded before she needed to think about it, and that was one of the most soothing things about Mother Peixes, how she removed the need to think about her actions. Instead, Rose could simply act, and know that what she was doing was the right thing to do.

She pulled off her sweater and tossed it behind herself, not paying it any further attention. Then, she unzipped and wiggled out of her jeans, doing her best not to allow the hems to get wet, leaving her in a sports bra and boxers. Rose never considered herself much to look at, five foot tall and maybe half an inch past that, with wide hips and powerful legs trained from years of wandering on sidewalks and taking notes of the populace, but without much of a bust to speak of at all. She knew, of course, naturally, that her self worth was not determined by such things, but rather, her abilities as a human, yet it still didn't stop the meager dissatisfaction she felt whenever she looked into a mirror.

Eventually, she stopped looking into mirrors at all.

How long had she been staring at the surface of the water?

Watching herself.

Who was she fooling? She was more than adequate. After all, if she was inadequate, Mother Peixes would not have taken her in as her own. The logic was simple and inescapable. Now, her body didn't seem so meager. It was purpose-built for its function. Rose was beautiful, and she knew that because Mother Peixes knew she was beautiful. She turned to her, tears burning in the corner of her eyes. "I'm ready, Mother Peixes."

"Good. Enter the pool, my child, and wash yourself of pain, and observe." Mother Peixes replied, getting up from her seat and walking away from the pool, just a meter or two, and turning around to face Rose. Rose slowly slid into the warm water, letting it rise up her body, cradling her, pulling her down. She sunk like a stone, letting go of all the weight of her past,

scrambling for air until she emerged, unsure of how long she had spent in the brackish depths, nor what she saw. Her body felt light, relieved, hands scrabbling for purchase against the edge of the pool until they caught and she was able to pull herself up. If she spent long beneath the surface, she was unaware, for Mother Peixes did not appear to have moved an inch. Rose pulled herself up just enough, idly kicking her legs, watching with barely contained glee and awe mixed in a noxious concoction, burning holes inside of her.

Mother Peixes began to disrobe. She first removed several thin, translucent outer layers, letting them fall to the floor, giving her body just the slightest shade more definition. Then, the draping cloth over her head and shoulders and arms, and the several lacey, gossamer layers beneath, unwrapped, untied, placed on the damp ground. At some point, Rose had begun drooling, a sticky puddle forming on the ledge of the pool, but she really didn't give a shit. Mother Peixes pulled off one final, scarf-like wrap from around her head and horns before prying loose an _immense_ braid, easily as long as Mother Peixes was tall and probably as wide as Rose's torso, letting it fall down her back.

She cracked one eye open at Rose, grinning with those steak-knife teeth, and Rose blacked out for a moment, the edges of her vision swimming with stars when she came to seconds later.

Then, the uppermost part of her cloak, or perhaps her habit, came next, revealing more of her body's definition, but still not quite enough for Rose, her view stained by tears of admiration and beauty. Reaching down, she grabbed for the hem of her dress and pulled it up all the way, and finally, Rose could see the edges of her hips, contained in even further layers of confining cloth, but a silhouette nonetheless, and rubbed her thighs together. Then, thinking better of it, she spoke up:

"Mother Peixes. I am... I am feeling a particular-" She started, only to be cut off. Her voice failed her, dipping into silence as soon as she was spoken over, as it should.

"Of course you may, my child." Mother Peixes answered, and that was all the encouragement Rose needed, moving one hand below the surface and using the other to keep herself held up. She began gently feeling herself, running her fingers along fresh, clean skin, eagerly consuming the slightest sensation of touch she could provide herself, every so often dipping her hand down between her legs for stimulation. She worried her lower lip with her teeth, body occasionally shuddering with delight.

Mother Peixes then removed what appeared to be the largest, most encompassing robe, with a black, long skirt, and separate white blouse, beneath it, both hiding everything there was to hide. But Rose could see just fine, she could see the curves of Mother Peixes's body, how her breasts strained even the loose, billowy top, how her hips stretched out what would've been a chaste dress skirt on anyone else. The skirt was untied in short order, revealing that what Rose initially assumed was a blouse of some kind was really just a full, long-sleeved dress.

Then, that came off. Layer after layer after layer, but Rose was patient, she could wait. The metallic taste of nosebleed entered her lips again, so she dutifully ceased her ministrations so that she could splash some water on her face until it went away, before turning her rapt attention back to Mother Peixes.

Finally, Rose could see the perfect, charcoal skin of Mother Peixes, as she inverted her dress, pulling it all the way up above her horns, and discarded it.

Rose squeezed her legs together and came, letting out an incredibly undignified noise as her body pulled taut against itself, curling and uncurling her toes. She immediately got to work again.

Mother Peixes's nude body finally revealed a question Rose had been burning through for hours but never wanted to ask. Fluttering gills on her now-uncovered neck, against her ribcage, faded, fuchsia grubscars, fins that she had failed to notice before. It was clear to her now that Mother Peixes was a fuchsiablood, a mythical breed of seadweller - by birthright, the Empress of her species. That was more than appropriate. It was what she deserved. Her skin was crisscrossed, limb to limb, pelvis to neck, with narrow, white straps, held together with golden buckles, forming geometric shapes against her skin - pentagrams, triangles, distorted polygons pulled against the curvature of her body, seeming to shift against her skin like the tendrils of a looming octopus, binding her into shape, holding her into a shape that could be perceived without burning one's eyes out.

Her gills fluttered, taking in oxygen. She let out an ice-cold breath into the steam-coated air. Her body had all the elemental components that represented the feminine to Rose, simultaneously an exaggerated sex object and her comforting thought-leader, with rounded, heavy breasts, a healthy, soft stomach, wide hips, larger in proportion even than Rose's, powerful calves and thighs. Rose didn't care if this was reality, if this was Mother Peixes's true form, or if it was all some sort of reality-shaped illusion seared into her mind to ensure her compliance, _it didn't matter_. If this was what Mother Peixes wanted Rose to see, then this is what she would see, regardless of how true or false it was.

Rose let go of the edge of the pool, treading water as Mother Peixes approached, giving her room to take one step onto the water's surface, then another, followed by slowly sinking down, her braid coming undone as it touched the pool. It fanned out around Rose, malformed displacement pulling her under with Mother Peixes, sucking her towards her, until Rose could finally reach out and touch her skin.

She latched on, holding on tight, no matter how cold she was. The difference between the hot poolwater and the icy surface of Mother Peixes's skin produced a searing sensation in Rose's body that quickly dulled into a low, ignorable roar. Rose's head stayed thoroughly under the water, breath held, until Mother Peixes was comfortably buoyant and pulled her up from beneath, cradling Rose to her chest. Rose's face felt heavy and sore, alternating between sobbing and laughing uncontrollably, unable to restrain the free leakage of blood from her nose into the pool beneath.

Rose was not in control of anything - not her body, not her thoughts, not her emotions. She had surrendered them all to the goddess holding her, cradling her close, brushing her hair, while she shook and rocked violently, the baptismal pool wracked with her howls and screams. She let go of all the oxygen in her body, leaving it to the void as she let loose the most unearthly sounds, feeling bruises begin to form across her cheeks at the potency of her weeping, gasping for breath, letting it all go, useless to her as it was.

Her throat grew sore with effort and exertion while she shrieked and shrieked, filling the chamber with the sounds of her uncomplicated, mundane, disinteresting ego death. Blood freely pooled across her lips from her nostrils, spreading across Mother Peixes's body, absorbed into her blackboard skin, while Mother Peixes, so caring, so kind, continued to hold her close, one arm wrapped around Rose's back, the other brushing her hair, patting her back, helping her pour it all away, until her throat was so ravaged with sound that all the noises Rose could make were small, pained hiccups. Rose shivered and rocked back and forth, and Mother Peixes bent down to kiss her on the top of her head, and it was all okay, and there were no more thoughts in her empty little head, were there?

No, most certainly not.

She thought what Mother Peixes wanted her to think.

When Mother Peixes pushed her down, so that her bloodied face was pressed against Mother Peixes's breast, Rose knew immediately what she was needed to do. It wasn't even much of a thought, more of an impulse. She wrapped her lips around the font of life and began to drink deeply. Rose's arms wrapped around Mother Peixes's stomach as the ichor, brackish, saline, inedible, flowed down her throat, burning her vocal cords. She could feel it filling her like tar in a pothole. She wrapped her legs around Mother Peixes's thigh and ground mindlessly, bucking her hips, squeezing herself close to her ice-cold skin, tainting the white leather straps across her body with Rose's need.

The fluid leaking from Rose's ungainly face began to blacken and thicken, the blood in her veins beginning to chill. Mother Peixes, who was once the ice-cold object of affection Rose needed to protect her, steadily grew warmer and warmer, as Rose found her skin falling away in flakes, revealing the new skin beneath. Rose murmured hoarsely, wordlessly, as blood grew darker and darker until it became a star-speckled black, her new skin an ice cold asphalt, her tears burning darker rivers down her face, almost like that mascara she had grown so used to. She continued to hold on tightly while Mother Peixes allowed her to worry her breast with attention, holding her writhing body steady as it was wracked with orgasm, painting Mother Peixes's skin with dark stellar tar.

Rose was burnt away in that bath, leaving Rose behind.

She looked up to Mother Peixes, now comfortable to touch, pulling her mouth away with a loud, satisfied pop. Her breath made the air in the room condense around her, forming droplets against her skin, some of them wicking away into frost before melting in the steam. Now, they were together, and Rose could reach up for her shoulders and she could reach down and prop Rose up, hugging her close. Rose wept freely, burning tears of starstuff falling into the pool below and spreading out, sucked into the depths where she knew the Old One lay, waiting for her. Mother Peixes kissed Rose on the forehead, their gaseous auras melding together. At the moment, there was no functional difference between the two - like how Mother Peixes had become a vessel for Gl'bgolyb, Rose had become a vessel for Mother Peixes, only one of her many tendrils enacting her will on this new planet.

Now, reborn, Rose needed to be wedded and deflowered. Her unholy baptism consummated. She shifted positions so that her legs were splayed around Mother Peixes's stomach, and took a deep breath, hearing the noxious un-sound that was her tendrils emerging. Rose could have seen earlier, of course, that the ex-troll who had compleated her possessed something not dissimilar to the genitalia arrangement she was used to from lovers, but, like all things with Mother Peixes, it was just so much _more_. If she were to take it unprepared, it would've certainly rent her apart, rendered her little but food for the Old One - not a fate she was opposed to, but she was intensely glad that she was blessed with the alternative.

Rose looked down only enough to satisfy her own curiosity, a thick, dark tentacle emerging from Mother Peixes's sheath, her grubscars faded to their true blackened color. Despite herself, she was nervous - her body had never taken something with that immensity, never mind the dozens of more slender tendrils accompanying it, all emerging like an anemone from her spatially incomprehensible body plan. Rose turned to Mother Peixes, shyly looking up at her, opening her white lips to speak, but Mother Peixes raised a hand to Rose's lips, shushing her.

Her eyes were so beautiful. She saw now why she had to keep them shut, lest their radiance burn out the mind of her old self, rendering her as useless chum for the Old One. No, before, Rose, with her human eyes, irises and all, could only handle it in small doses, her brain protectively wiping her memory so she didn't focus too much on it. But now, Rose, with her new eyes, bright white and glowing, could look Mother Peixes right back, kissing the finger pressed against her lips, leaning up to kiss her chin.

She was right, of course. Mother Peixes was always right. Rose was more than ready. She let her eyes drift shut as Mother Peixes claimed her, the thickest tentacle penetrating Rose right where it should be, the rest coiling around her legs and her stomach and her breasts and her arms, lavishing her with attention. Rose ached and sighed and sobbed and laughed and shook all in one violent dis-noise, feeling her body stretch and gape around the undulating, serpentine tentacle burrowing through her. Tears pricked her cheeks as she burrowed her face into Mother Peixes's collarbone, biting down hard on her skin to avoid embarrassing herself with ungainly, unladylike tones.

Even the taste was divinity on her burnt tongue, ambrosia for the accumulated post-senses. Rose's drool rolled down Mother Peixes's skin while her body contracted around her bulge, trying to draw it deeper, further, into places where no human would be able to withstand. Rose knew now why Mother Peixes had to found this glorious Church, for all living beings were her children, and they required due awakening. Rose inelegantly slobbered against her shoulder, her body twitching in reaction to its unnatural penetration. Mother Peixes bucked her hips upwards, and Rose let out a loud, noisome tone from the depths of her diaphragm as she was thrust into further.

Rose held on for dear unlife as the marauding tentacles caressed her new skin, leaving trails of adoring ooze across her body that quickly sublimated into the water around them, tainting it a deep metallic color. She so wished she could caress them, touch them, give every one the individual attention they deserved, but she needed her arms and legs to cling to Mother Peixes, so needy and desperate, pressing loving kiss after loving kiss to her neck and throat while she blithely thrust away with her corrupt tentabulge. Rose choked with glee, hungrily biting and gnashing for purchase against Mother Peixes's collarbone, her shoulder, her arm, her breast, her neck, like she was trying to tear away chunks, a starving animal in heat, assuaged only by Mother Peixes's eternal patience, her hand brushing Rose's snow-white hair.

She looked up at Mother Peixes, pleadingly, begging, needing, and Mother Peixes looked back down, and they made eye contact. She knew why she would never need to open her eyes, and that was because she never needed to see. But they could both look at each other now, and look as a Mother and her vessel, and Rose came on the spot, again, and again, and again, her body clenching and unclenching, tensing up, loosening, tensing up, arching into Mother Peixes. She wailed in wordless, ancient tongues ( _somewhere, a small fish twisted itself in half before sprouting two more fins, three more tails, five more mouths, and a voracious appetite_ ), pouring herself into the baptismal pool, and again, and again, thrusting herself back down, impaling herself on Mother Peixes, deeper, deeper, deeper, she must, must, must!

When Mother Peixes came, everything went white.

"Can I help you?" made Rose jump, not expecting any voice to accost her, much less one about six inches from her ear. She hadn't even heard a single footstep, and yet here was an entire-ass person close enough that they could reach out and grab her. Rose turned around slowly to come face to face with her accosting acquaintance, raising a considerable eyebrow in her direction.

There was something about her distinctly unlike every other troll Rose had met before. Her skin was, of course, gray, but it was closer to the unhealthy darkened pallor of charcoal than the light, elephant-skin gray she was used to. Rose wasn't certain if she was hallucinating or not, but it sure seemed like the nun in front of her was radiating whitish smoke, dispersing into wispy trails above her, easily seeping through her densely-layered, drapey ensemble, in black and fuchsia and gold. Her eyes were nearly shut, and Rose could not make out any color behind them or her voluminous eyelashes, but a pleased smile was painted across her face, slight wrinkles around her eyes belying a frequent grin that Rose was yet to see, immense horns peeking through her headdress, presumably to enhance the feeling of looming over someone. Her figure, as appealing as Rose may have imagined it to be, was hidden under far too much cloth to perceive.

Rose looked down at her feet, distracted by her flights of fancy by the woman in front of her, turning to face the stained glass - Gl'bgolyb, the Old One, of course, and then back to Mother Peixes. Rose grinned, and when Mother Peixes opened her eyes, her smile grew painfully wide.

"Not today, Mother. I will be out of your hair in a moment. May I ask when are the next services?" Rose asked, shyly, deferentially.

Mother Peixes bent down to gently brush Rose's hair with an immaculate hand, and was met with no resistance, Rose eagerly leaning into her touch, craving it through some phantom memory - or was it a daydream? "Tomorrow morning, Miss..."

"Rose Lalonde." Rose volunteered. As Mother's mouth broke into a grin, Rose could feel her nose begin to trickle.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments, kudos, bookmarks, and views are seen, noted, and greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.
> 
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